The Butterfly
by All Pedestrians Hate You
Summary: One of the only HDM fics that's NOT about Will & Lyra... this one's about Balthamos! Woo! Anyway, he's sitting in a tree, remembering a certain someone... please R/R!


A/N: I wrote this one day when I was bored. It's basically what Balthamos did after he ran away from that battle - sat in a tree and thought about Baruch, among other things. (Thoughts are in italics.) This is my first fic, so please don't flame me. Pretty please?

PS - I claim no responsibility for mental injuries incurred from the severe suckage of this fanfic. In other words, if you die from the stupidity, it isn't my fault cuz I WARNED YOU! 

The dark veil of night had long since fallen across the world, and now millions of twinkling stars lay scattered like diamonds in the velvet sky. Everything, it seemed, was silent and still - except for Balthamos. The lonely angel found himself unable to rest. He should have been tired after the long and fearful retreat he had just completed, but his mind was whirling with jumbled thoughts he couldn't silence. Physically, he was in great pain as well, and he grew weaker with each passing minute. _Perhaps_, he thought, _it has something to do with the fact that I'm trying to sleep in a tree. _He stretched his wings absently and leaned back against the tree trunk, looking down at the dark forest floor far below. His legs were beginning to cramp, but he reminded himself, _I can't come down. They might have been following me. _A jolt of pain ran through his heart as he remembered what he'd fled from - and who he had abandoned. _I can't believe I left Will alone. He trusted me and I should have been able to protect him. _Balthamos rested his head in his hands. _I'm a coward. Nothing but a coward._ _But then, really, I haven't been the same since... _

Then the memories returned. A flood of thoughts and images washed over him, and these demons pained him more than any physical wound ever could. In moments he found himself reduced to tears. Huddled on the branch, trembling with cold and desolation, he was unable to hold back. _Why can't I just stop crying? I'm too tired to keep doing this.  _He wiped his eyes with the back of one shaking hand and tried to swallow the lump in his throat. He was remembering Baruch again, something he tried desperately not to do. But when he was alone like this, it was impossible. Baruch had been all he'd ever had... he had taught him what love felt like. How to give it, and how to receive it. Balthamos had never known feelings like that in his life as a human. He'd never known happiness as intense as what Baruch gave him. Then, suddenly, without warning and without goodbye... Baruch had died. The second it happened, Balthamos had known instinctively, and it was as though someone had reached into his chest and torn out his heart. 

Balthamos drew a ragged breath and shut his eyes, trying to block the thoughts out. _I need to be strong now. I have to help Will and his friend and I can't possibly do anything if I keep acting this way._ For just a moment, he was able to stop sobbing and clear his mind. Breathing deeply, trying to pull himself together, he shifted position on the thin bough. The sky was more clear than he'd ever seen it, and he noticed for the first time how beautiful it really was. _I bet if you looked hard enough on a night like this, you could see the Dust in the air._

As he stared absently into the vast expanse of darkness, he felt something brush against his fingertips. Looking there, he saw a small and brightly coloured butterfly landing on him. In spite of himself, he laughed. "Silly thing. It's the middle of the night. What are you doing still awake? Well, I suppose you could ask me the same question. That is, if you could talk. But you can't." Then he paused momentarily, realizing just what he was doing. "I really need some sleep. I'm starting to talk to insects." The butterfly settled on the back of his hand, and folded its wings. "Sure, sleep there. At least one of us will get some rest." He smiled down at it. "You're lonely, aren't you? I know I am. But you probably have a family and people who love you. You can just go back to them any time you want. Me, I have nobody." He thought he saw the little insect's antennae move slightly as he spoke, but then berated himself. _This is ridiculous. It's a butterfly, it's not listening to me. _Despite this, he continued to talk to it as though it were. 

"I used to have someone. He was wonderful to me. He brought out the best in me. I felt safe and happy when he was around and he always made me feel loved. I'd never known anyone as amazing as him, and I really thought we'd spend eternity together. But then... then he died. Angels can die, did you know that? So his particles went into the atmosphere. That's what happens to angels when we pass away. I just wish I knew where he was, if he's happy. I want to know if he thinks about me as much as I think about him. I want a sign, something to let me know..." 

He was sobbing now, screaming the words at the top of his lungs. He didn't care that nobody was listening. He cried out into the very air, to the cold and distant moon. Tears were pouring down his face and his heart ached more than it ever had before. "Please, please, Baruch, I love you. This is so hard. It's too hard. I'm not strong enough to live without you." He hung his head, his body shaking. "I can't do this anymore," he whispered, blinded by tears. "I wish I could just die so I could see you again." 

Completely spent, he leaned back against the tree trunk. But as he went to wipe the tears from his face, he remembered the butterfly. It was no longer sitting on his hand. _It left me. I probably scared the living daylights out of it. _He shut his eyes, exhausted from the effort he'd just taken. His entire body was trembling and aching, and he felt utterly empty and alone. More than anything, he wanted to sleep now, but he couldn't. His tormented mind would not let him have that relief. Instead, he settled for simply resting, trying desperately to slow his rapid breathing. Anything to ease the pain. Not minutes later, though, he felt something brush his eyelids. He opened his eyes slowly and saw the butterfly, hovering in front of his face. Yet this time, it carried something in its feet. 

"You're back?" He asked it, half in jest. "Thank you for not abandoning me. I'm sorry I scared you. What do you have there?"

The butterfly opened its feet and a single feather floated down onto Balthamos' stomach. A small, shiny, silver-blue feather that glimmered in the moonlight. It was pale, light, almost translucent. He reached out to pick it up, and the second his fingers touched it, he felt an overwhelming and enveloping sense of peace. It was as though the small object was radiating love. The ache in his chest subsided as he brought it to his face, stroking it across his cheek. As he did so, he took a sniff of the feather. It smelled eerily familiar, and he spent quite a long time trying to place it. Then, finally, it came to him. The scent of lilies - Baruch's favourite flower. ._My love sent me this. This is his sign. He wants me to know that everything's okay. _He looked up at the butterfly, tears of disbelief and joy in his eyes. "Oh...." 

The butterfly bobbed up and down as though it were nodding, and Balthamos could not help but laugh. And as the sun rose slowly up over the distant hills, painting the horizon with a rainbow of pink and orange light, he finally found the strength to leave the tree.  


End file.
